


the house that built me

by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Based on a song, Gen, set in the time period where jason is actively trying to kill bruce and tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28931517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcp_sob_rjl_lmep/pseuds/jcp_sob_rjl_lmep
Summary: Jason made it into Gotham the night before he told Talia he would. It was on purpose; he had a reason to be in Gotham, the weapons to back himself up, and when he woke in the morning, he would get started.But this night was for him.
Kudos: 9





	the house that built me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AceArchangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceArchangel/gifts).



> Happy birthday Angel! I hope you had a really great birthday and I'm so glad we're friends! Ily and I can't wait to keep brainstorming more stories with you.

Jason made it into Gotham the night before he told Talia he would. It was on purpose; he had a reason to be in Gotham, the weapons to back himself up, and when he woke in the morning, he would get started.

But this night was for him.

He stashed his things in a place he paid for with cash, ensured they looked beat up enough that even if someone broke in they wouldn’t want to steal anything. Then he left.

Jason made his way across familiar rooftops, leaping over alleyways he’d known long before he’d met any rich bastard. He didn’t go quite as fast as he could, taking in the hellhole he’d been born into, the city that was his, that he would wrest control of. Maybe some small part of him was trying to put this off.

_I know they say you can't go home again._

_I just had to come back one last time._

But it didn’t take him long to arrive. He settled on the rooftop looking into the window of the small apartment, pressing his chest into the cold gravel without a wince, fishing a small telescope out of his pocket-just big enough to see the details.

There, right in the doorframe of the entrance to the apartment, there was the nick of wood that Jason had carved out the time he tried to measure how tall he was. His mama had said that she wanted to mark down how tall he was, and Jason was only six, he didn’t understand yet how many things his mama wanted to do that they couldn’t. She was sleeping on the couch, one of the sleeps that he couldn’t wake her from even if he screamed, and he thought she’d be happy when she woke up and saw what he had done.

Willis had come home before Catherine had woken up.

Jason didn’t ever measure his height against a doorframe again, not until it was a British voice asking him to “Stand tall, my boy,” and “My, you have grown”-but Jason didn’t want to think about those days.

_I thought if I could touch this place or feel it_

_This brokenness inside me might start healing._

There, off the side of the kitchen, that was the small room that had been Jason’s when it was warm enough for him to have his own room. In the colder months, he would crawl into bed with his mama, curl up with her under their ratty old blankets and attempt to conserve warmth. When he’d been smaller, she had been warmer, but by the time she had died, she had been thin and bony, not warm enough for herself, let alone him.

The new family had some different furniture, but some of it was the same-different chairs around the same kitchen table, the same tattered couch (which had been gross when he had lived there and must be even worse now) but a TV that was shitty, but a little less shitty than the one the Todds had used.

_Out here it's like I'm someone else,_

_I thought that maybe I could find myself_

The family inside had two kids, little enough that neither of them came up to their mom’s waist. She was laughing, singing maybe, holding one on each hip as she twirled around the living room. Her husband was scraping up the remnants of dinner, putting the scant leftovers back in the fridge; if you lived in this neighborhood, any food was too much to waste.

Jason couldn’t remember ever dancing around with his mama. Even when she hadn’t been deep in her addictions, too thin to pick him up, she was always one to want him to sit with her, to tell him stories and sometimes even help him with the little bit of homework he’d had. Willis didn’t like music all that much, and Jason and his mama hadn’t wanted to put any on in fear that he’d walk in while it was playing.

In all the years Jason had lived in this apartment, he couldn’t remember ever being so happy to be there. He’d always dreamed about the day he would leave.

He hadn’t realized what the cost of leaving would be until it had already been paid, cold arms locking him in place, the loss of that comforting breath that ruffled his curls.

_You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can._

_I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am._

Jason angrily scrubbed a hand across his face, scratching roughly at the dried tear tracks he found. He couldn’t remember now why he thought this was going to be a good idea. His mom was dead, and so was the woman who had birthed him. And though he had foolishly thought different for a few years, he hadn’t ever had a good dad. Both of them just used him and tossed him aside, didn’t even care to go looking when he was gone.

Jason had himself and himself only to depend on. It was time to go back to his room and get some rest. The replacement and the man who Jason had once called Dad would both get what was coming to them, and Jason would take better care of this city than they ever could.

_Won't take nothing but a memory_

_From the house that built me._

**Author's Note:**

> Downloads are fine but please don't post this anywhere else without my permission.  
> Feel free to come catch me on [tumblr](https://iwillstaywiththemforever.tumblr.com).  
> 


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